Duty and Desire Outtakes
by Aspenleaf
Summary: Outtakes from the story Duty and Desire. They're either won at auction and/or scene's people have asked me very nicely to write.
1. A Grievous Error

**Thank you Bethmasencullen for your donation to the Support Stacie Auction and bidding on me. **

**This outtake is Bella's point of view from Chapter 18, The Letter. **

**I do not own Twilight or Pride and Prejudice**

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I desperately needed fresh air. The house which had been my safe haven now felt like a prison.

It had been easier than I thought to convince Jessica I needed to be outdoors this morning. I had come upon Mr. Newton and Jessica seated at the table eating breakfast. Luck seemed to be on my side this morning, unlike yesterday.

Mr. Newton's mouth was full of food, preventing him from talking to me. I took advantage of this rare opportunity to escape without having to listen to his endless droning about Lady Irina. I told Jessica I needed some fresh air, she remarked that I did look pale. I suppose I had not taken the time to look at my appearance this morning. Mr. Newton, in an attempt to speak with his mouth was full, began choking slightly. I slipped out before he was able to clear his throat and talk to me.

Walking slowly toward my favorite path, I stopped suddenly.

_Would Mr. Masen be out walking this morning?_

I don't think I could take another encounter with him right now. Everything was still to raw.

I looked around making sure I was alone. Seeing no one I took off running. I loved the feeling of the wind on my face as I ran. Running was my escape, even though it was considered a sign of ill breeding. I didn't care, I felt free.

I had been cooped up for far too long, or if I was being honest with myself I was hiding. Never before had a man so thoroughly confused and provoked me. I hated him, yet was unable to deny the irrational draw I felt when near him. Never in my wildest imaginations did I believe he would propose. Why would he want that? Mr. Masen was either a total fool or a masochist. No man would purposely attach themselves to someone who so thoroughly disliked them.

No, he must be a fool.

I slowed to a walk and finally came to a stop. Grasping the nearest tree and I caught my breath. It had been a while since I had an opportunity to run and I felt tired.

I had tried countless times to understand why I reacted the way I did to him. It was as if I had no control over my actions, and that bothered me considerably. The feelings he stirred in me were confusing and new, I had no idea what to think. He seemed to bring out strong reactions in me, unrelenting on every front. We were toxic together, there was no denying it. If I had accepted him, we would have made each other miserable.

A noise behind me broke me of my musings. I turned thinking I must be hearing things, only to be face to face with no other than, Mr. Masen.

He looked exhausted, his face which usually held such a haughty demeanor, was drawn and tired. I felt my heart clench as it cried out for him. I wanted to caress his face, taking away all the pain in his eyes.

No! I couldn't do this, he had done too much.

I steeled myself.

He looked at me as if he were trying to decipher something. He sighed heavily and reached into the breast pocket of his coat.

"I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but would you do me the honor of reading this letter?" he entreated in a soft voice. It was so unlike any other time I had spoken with him.

He sounded broken.

Before I could respond he turned and all but ran from me.

_What had I done to him?_

I watched his retreating form, hoping he would turn around. I needed to see his face one last time. Even though my feelings for him were confused, and I was certain I disliked him, I didn't want that face to be my final memory of him.

He didn't turn around, and now he was gone.

I looked at my hand where he had placed the letter and slowly closed my fists tightly around it. I willed myself not to cry out in frustration, why could he not leave well enough alone? From the feel of it, the letter was lengthy, he must have had much to say. No doubt more complaints on the unworthiness of myself as well as my family.

I walked over to the stream, and sat on a fallen log. I contemplated throwing the letter in the water and letting the current carry his hateful words far away from me.

But curiously got the best of me. He had gone to a lot of trouble to not only write this, but track me down.

Sighing, I broke the seal, and paused looking around to make sure I was still alone. I had no idea what the contents of this letter held, but I knew I did not want an audience intruding on my reaction.

Slowly, I unfolded the letter and began to read.

_Madam, _

_Be not alarmed on receiving this letter, or that it contains any continuation of sentiments or renewals of offers which today were so disgusting to you. I would, however, like to address the accusations leveled against me._

He was angry and bitter; I couldn't help the sadness my heart felt with his declaration.

_First, despite the feelings of either party, I separated your sister from Mr. McCarty. Although I do not deny this, I feel my reasons were just._

Justified? Really, Mr. Masen astonished me.

_I noticed early on that Mr. McCarty admired your sister and was very much taken with her. The night of the Netherfield ball convinced me that it would not be long until a serious attachment would be made. However, after observing your sister for several weeks, I was unable to sense any kind of strong attachment on her side. Although she seemed to enjoy his company, I was convinced her affections were not as strong as my friend's feelings for her. So many of our class marry for wealth and titles, and it is a rare match indeed that is formed from love. I did not want my friend to suffer that fate._

Though I was loathed to agree to his point of view, I grudgingly accepted that although it was flawed, his reasoning made sense. Too many people married with the intent of aligning powerful families or to combine wealth. Often the bride and groom had no say in their prospective spouse. I searched my memory for those times Rose had been with Mr. McCarty. I could remember his enthusiasm, and cheerful demeanor, Rose, though shy, seemed genuinely comfortable around him. This was a huge step considering she generally shied away from the company of men altogether.

_In addition, I was given information that night about a prior engagement your sister had with a Mr. Royce King, one which he ended suddenly. Mr. McCarty was confused and unsure of how your sister really felt, afraid that perhaps she pined for this other man. I convinced him it would be wise to leave for town in order to sort out his feelings._

Oh that man, would we never be rid of the horrible shadow he cast over our lives?

_I now understand that she did have strong feelings for him, as you informed me, and for that I am truly sorry. It was foolish of me to make assumptions based on what was obviously gossip. I never meant any offense against your sister. I hope you can understand I acted in a way to protect the happiness of a friend by encouraging him to make an informed decision. I can not blame myself for having done this much. _

A tear slipped down my cheek and then another. I blinked letting the rest fall freely. I folded the letter and looked at the calming landscape before me, the stream, the trees, anything to distract myself. A heavy weight, which sat on my heart, suddenly felt slightly lighter. I was far from happy with the manner in which Mr. Masen had acted, but his reasoning was sound. Based on the information they had received, and my sisters less than enthusiastic response. I grudgingly agreed that I would have been cautious as well. I wondered what kind of response they were used to. Did they except a woman in love to flirt shamelessly and demanded the attention of the whole room? Was it not enough to show affection through simple gestures? I laughed as memories of Miss McCarty's behavior came rushing back. She had thrown herself shamelessly into Mr. Masen's path time after time only to receive little or no response. Her method of flirting often bordered on the obscene. I was surprised Mr. Masen allowed her to use his Christian name so freely. I thought of the difference between Miss McCarty's behavior and that of Rosalie. Did Mr. McCarty expect more because of his experience with his sister?

I groaned in frustration.

Having never been to town for society functions, I had no experience to draw from. It seemed my only comparison was Miss McCarty, but a nagging feeling told me her methods were more mercenary, and not a reflection of normal ton behavior. I decided I was going in circles and needed to finish the remainder of the letter, I unfolded and began to read.

_In the matter of Mr. Wickham, I do not know under what falsehoods he imposed himself on you, yet I hope you can acquit me of cruelty toward him. I feel the only way to do this is it to reveal to you his connection with my family._

_James Wickham is the son of my late father's steward. His father was a good man and held the management of our family's estate. We played together as children, often fishing and getting into trouble, as most young boys do. My father was fond of him and offered to assist him with his education. James attended; however, he showed little real interest in pursuing any career. By the end of his term at school, his habits had become alarmingly erratic, from drinking, to gambling heavily, to debauchery of the worst sort. It was not long before he was dismissed from school. _

_He floundered in and out of several other careers. We saw little of him until news of my father's illness brought him back to Pemberley. My father's attachment to Mr. Wickham was so steady that upon his death, James was given three thousand pounds, as promised in my father's will. After receiving the money, he vanished for a time. Subsequent to gambling away all his money, he sent a missive asking for more funds, which I refused. He then severed all contact, and I did not hear from him until a year ago, under the most painful circumstances, which every day I wish I could forget._

_My sister, Alice, who is ten years my junior, was left in the care of a Mrs. Laurent, in whose character we were very much deceived. After reading several of my sister's letters, I determined that she seemed to be suffering from low spirits. I resolved to leave immediately and try to do what I could for her. Wanting to leave as soon as possible, I did not write ahead to inform anyone of my arrival. When I arrived, the house appeared vacant, and Mrs. Laurent was nowhere to be found. At that moment, I heard a scream that will forever be seared in my memory._

_I ran frantically, searching for the source of the scream, knowing it was Alice. Approaching her chambers, I threw open the door. What I found shocked and enraged me to no end. James had his hands on my sister, attempting to force himself on her. I ran and threw him off of her, but in my attempt to comfort Alice, who was in hysterics, James had fled._

_The bastard had tried to befriend her, in the hopes she would elope with him. When it became clear that she did not harbor any feelings for him beyond friendship, he sought to ruin her reputation in exchange for money to keep his silence. I suppose his primary motive was money, however, I feel a secondary motive was to revenge himself on me for denying him more funds. If he had succeeded, his revenge would have been complete indeed. We were unable to pursue him through the law; to expose him would have meant ruining Alice's reputation. That was not something I was willing to risk. And so the rogue roams free, while my sister tries to regain her life. She was but sixteen years old._

_I understand the shock you must be feeling, and I would not burden you with this; however, I have a strong need for you to understand the truth. I know this will not improve your opinion of me, and to that I am reconciled. For confirmation, should you feel in need of it, you may apply to Col. Whitlock, who shares the guardianship of Alice with myself, and is aware of all these events and transactions._

_I wish you health and happiness._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Edward Anthony Masen_

I felt an overwhelming need to be sick. With shaking hands I refolded the letter and attempted to steady myself on the log. I looked up at the landscape, which had been so soothing and was now blurred. I realized I was shaking with sobs which had been held at bay and now broke through, freely racking my body. I clutched my middle, rocking forward, my free hand covered my mouth holding in the scream threatening to come.

What had I done? How had I been so blind, unwilling to see the truth behind Mr. Masen's words and actions. I had ignored all sense and allowed a man I barley new to blind me from seeing the goodness of another.

Mr. Wickham had been so convincing and I had stupidly listened to him, because Mr. Masen had wounded my pride. What sort of man would relay such private thoughts and accusation to a stranger, and then when Mr. Masen had left Mr. Wickham freely shared with the whole of Meryton. So many signs I should have seen but was blinded by my anger at his slight.

I stood and began walking or pacing if I was being honest. His sister! I had defended that... that man. And he was no better than the bastard who had hurt Rose. I was going to have to face him when I returned to Meryton, and I didn't know if I could restrain myself from physically harming him. He had deceived me, but why? Why had he singled me out of all the ladies who would have been more than willing to listen?

I stopped walking. Had he seen something in Mr. Masen that I had not? Jessica was stubbornly insistent about how Mr. Masen must be in love with me, simply because he paid me more attention than anyone else. Being stubborn as well, I scoffed and brushed it off to thinking Mr. Masen only enjoyed provoking me.

However, after yesterday's declaration it was apparent I need to reevaluate things.

I thought back to our encounters, his time in Meryton, and Kent. I allowed myself to remember our meetings, without my pride blinding my judgment. I remembered his attentions, the discussions about literature. At the time I thought he was trying to insight an argument, but now I realized he was trying to understand me. His attentiveness to me during my time here in Kent. I had grossly misunderstood his attentions, determined to think the worst of him. Now I realize he was the better man all along. Oh Lord, what a fool I was.

And now he was gone and I would give anything to take back my harsh words. I couldn't say I loved him. Attraction and want were often mistaken for love. Regardless, he did not deserve my harsh reproofs. I walked back toward the cottage, feeling infinitely worse than when I had left. Nothing but time it seemed would heal this wound. I had lost so much.

Jessica was waiting for me, pacing the foyer. She didn't ask me much, knowing me far too well. She did however inform me Colonel Whitlock had been there, he waited for over half an hour before he was forced to leave, and now he was gone as well. Jessica seemed confused as to why the Col. had been so insistent upon seeing me, but I knew. He was here to lend testimony to his friend's letter. I thanked her and quickly went up to my room. I stepped inside and locked the door, desperately trying to calm the panic that was overwhelming me.

He was gone, and I would never see him again.


	2. Of All This I Might Have Been Mistress

**This outtake was bid and won by Team Aspenleaf for the Eclipse Fandom gives back. Thank you ladies for your generosity and willingness to share this with the rest of the readers.**

**A special thanks to Roselover for organizing the team and being such a sweetheart.**

**Without further ramblings, I give you Isabella's time at Pemberley.**

**I do not own Twilight or Pride and Prejudice.**

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Snip

_I watched the blooms fall one by one as I cut them from their stems._

_The time outside was beneficial; it allowed me a small amount of peace and solitude._

"_Bella?" I turned to see Rose walking slowly toward me, carrying a basket of her own._

"_Rose!" I was surprised to see her out. "I am almost finished, would you care for some company?"_

_She shook her head and sighed, "I really only came out to get a few moments to myself and to escape Mama."_

"_I see...I will leave you, then." I gathered my things, trying to disguise the hurt on my face. We had always been so close. Not only were we sisters, but also each others closest friends and confidants. Yet since November she had become more withdrawn with each passing day._

_I began walking toward the house, worried that I would not be able to fix this._

"_Bella." I stopped and turned._ _"I am so sorry, please do not be angry with me."_

_I walked back to her, "Rose, I could never be angry with you. I want to help you. Please don't shut me out."_

_She sighed heavily, and I could see the weight of the grief she bore etched in her features._

"_I am better. I promise, It is just that... I still prefer Mr. McCarty to any other man of my acquaintance. And I thought..." She looked away quickly trying to blink away the tears._

"_I was mistaken, that is all. I will forget him and get on with my life."_

_She turned back to face me, a false smile in place, and I in turn gave her a look of disbelief._

"_Truly, Bella, he will be forgotten and I will be myself again."_

_She began snipping at the flowers, and I stared at her, feeling more helpless than I did before._

"Isabella!" Startled, I looked up to see my aunt shaking her head, amused. "Day dreaming again, my dear?" My uncle chuckled as he helped himself to some more dumplings.

"No, Aunt, just thinking about Rosalie."

"Poor dear, I do hope she is getting better. It is not like her to be so sad all the time."

I could only nod in response.

"Oh, as I was saying... what do you say to visiting Pemberley tomorrow?"

I was lucky that the spoonful of food about to enter my mouth was still in my hand. I began to cough as I tried to make sense of how to respond.

"My dear, are you well?" My aunt asked with concern.

"Indeed, it was only a cough. Um... do you specifically want to see it, Aunt?"

"Well, I thought _you _would, having heard so much about it."

_How was I going to get out of this?_

"I would feel awkward though, visiting the place without a formal invitation."

My uncle spoke up. "You visited Chatsworth and Blenheim, there was no awkwardness there."

I could see no way out of this. "Very well," I conceded.

"Come now, Isabella, the grounds are delightful. There is more to Pemberley than a fine house."

_Indeed_, I thought.

**~I~I~I~**

The carriage rolled along at a leisurely pace. I was trying to enjoy myself, but the fear of coming face to face with him again... it was causing me to be distracted, and my nerves were shot.

_Since when did I turn into my mother?_

I couldn't bear to see him. No doubt he hated me and would order me from the house.

I marveled at the vast groves of trees which lined the road. I saw more than one path with which I would have liked to become better acquainted.

My heart broke at the realization that I would never have a chance to.

"Isabella," my aunt called. "The grounds are beautiful, are they not?"

I nodded, too affected to speak.

"My dear, I believe we have seen enough groves and trees to satisfy even Isabella's enthusiasm for them." My uncle chuckled lightly.

Finally finding my voice, "I confess I had no idea Pemberley was such a great estate."

"Perhaps the beautiful groves render its owner a little less repulsive?" My aunt teased.

I colored immediately, ashamed of my earlier words regarding Mr. Masen. I looked away. "A little, I suppose," I offered, hoping they would begin to warm to him as I had.

I had not acquainted them with what had happened in Kent, nor did I see any way without exposing our unfortunate meeting. I only felt the need to make them understand I was wrong in my previous assessment of his character.

I was heartily ashamed of my foolish and misguided prejudice.

The carriage rounded a bend, and I noticed a large gate ahead. Two imposing statues stood on either side. Their weapons and stance made it appear as if they guarded the gate. I laughed quietly as I had a sudden vision of them coming to life and barring me entrance from the house.

My aunt and uncle looked at me with curious expression, and all I could do was smile.

My imagination had rendered me mad.

I breathed a silly sigh of relief as the carriage made it through the gate unharmed. Up ahead I saw a clearing, and as we neared, the coachman seemed to slow down. Suddenly, my aunt asked the coachman to stop for a moment.

I turned in the direction they were looking and was speechless.

The home in front of me was indeed beautiful. Pemberley, it seems, had not taken after the style of Rosings with all its medieval Gothic extravagance. Rather it was classic and tasteful. Many of the estates on our tour had been garish and overbearing.

Pemberley felt... inviting.

I found myself smiling as we drove on toward the house.

When we finally reached our destination, my uncle stepped out to enquire if it would be possibile to view the house.

The housekeeper, Mrs Cope, was a friendly and delightful woman who seemed eager to share Pemberley with whomever would listen.

The interior was much the same as the exterior of the home. Classical architecture with pillars and frescos lining the walls and ceiling. Our steps gave way to echoes as we walked on the marble floors.

I tried to imagine what it must have been like to grow up in such a place. Surely I would have been afraid to touch anything.

_Edward must have had a very cold childhood._

As much as I believed that notion, the more we saw of the home the more I saw Edward. I reminded myself that we were seeing the public rooms, and the private rooms were altogether another matter.

As the tour came to an end, Mrs. Cope led us to a very long hallway, lined with portraits of generations of Masens.

She stopped in the middle of the hall in front of the portrait of the current master and proceeded to give us his history.

Though I tried to pay attention, I confess I heard nothing.

All I could focus on was the face of the man before me.

His figure was striking, and although the portrait was not of his full figure, you could tell he was quite tall. I studied the strength of his body and when I made my way to his face my breath caught.

The artist had captured him perfectly. I had always thought him handsome. His piercing, intelligent eyes and his tall robust figure had made a singular impression. I thought back to our first meeting and how he had rendered me speechless. So much so I had allowed him liberty to kiss me.

His features looked softened by a small smile on his lips. I was mesmerized; this was not the same stern gentleman I remembered from Hertfordshire.

_He looked content._

"He is handsome, is he not?" I looked over to see Mrs. Cope smiling brightly at me.

Embarrassed by the comment, I colored slightly at being caught studying his portrait.

"Yes, I dare say he is." I replied as calmly as I could.

"I am sure I know none so handsome, nor so kind."

"Indeed." My uncle replied in surprise.

"He is the just like his father, kind and generous. Ask any of his servants or tenants. Some people call him proud, but I fancy that is because he is a devoted young man whose duty and love for his family is unparalleled."

"We understood he was away from home?" my aunt inquired.

"Yes, he is, but we expect him tomorrow with a large party of friends."

I let out a sigh of relief. _How close I had come to utter disaster._

The grounds at Pemberley were beautiful. I had never seen anything so peaceful.

I made my way through the many gardens and paths adjoining the house. After making my way through an overgrown archway, I found myself in a sanctuary of sorts. The walls were lined with ivy, and I could see the imposing hedge ahead which led to another section. Looking around, I took in the many variations of roses in more hues than I had ever seen.

In the center, there was a simple fountain, which led to the very peaceful of the garden.

Hidden behind a very tall rose bush, I noticed a marble bench. I sat down to collect myself for a moment.

This place was so overwhelming. I expected to feel nothing, but I would have only been fooling myself. It was painful walking these grounds, and through the home of the man who had done nothing wrong except love me. I had taken him to task, throwing falsehoods in his face, which because of my wounded pride, I had so naively believed.

Realizing I had lost track of the hour, I stood to go in search of my aunt and uncle. As I made my way through gate, I found it was blocked by a man.

I looked up and was shocked to see the vary countenance I had admire not an hour ago.

"Mr. Masen," I whispered in abject mortification.

There are many times in my life where I have suffered the mortification of my family, however I would hold my head up and brave the humiliation as best I could.

This was not one of those times, I did what anyone would have done in my situation.

I ran.

**~I~I~I~**

"Isabella." My aunt was delighted with Pemberley and they both talked of nothing else. "Why did you not tell us what an agreeable gentleman Mr. Masen was?"

"I suppose the opportunity never arose," I hedged trying to steer her toward a different subject.

"I, for one, found him a most agreeable gentleman. I would have never expected such notice. And to be invited again no less!" my uncle exclaimed.

As they continued to remark on the wonderful qualities of Mr. Masen, I sat on the coach, wishing somehow it would swallow me whole.

Our meeting had been unlike anything I had ever encountered with him, and it puzzled me exceedingly. I tried to respond that it was only polite indifference that he would show any guest. However, when he asked to introduce his sister to me during my stay, I was truly astonished.

After some time to contemplate what had passed at Pemberley, I was no closer to a resolution of my feelings than when I started.

His kindness puzzled me. I could not account for his benevolence toward myself or my relations.

His ability to rise above the horrid remarks and bitter accusations I leveled at him caused me to feel even more ashamed of my behavior.

He truly was the very best of men.

Why had I allowed my wounded pride to wreak such havoc with my judgement? Had I really thought a man in such a situation could do such terrible things? Even more so I had allowed a man who was barely an acquaintance to impart information of a very personal nature and never questioned it.

I had been a fool.

I settled into bed that night knowing I was far from understanding Edward Masen.

**~I~I~I~**

Despite the turmoil of my thoughts, I slept well. Wanting to take advantage of the beautiful weather, I ventured out to take in the sights. Derbyshire was so very different from Hertfordshire. The peaks and lakes were both imposing and serene; it was a perfect example of opposites creating harmony.

After losing myself in the beauty of the country, I hurried back before I was missed.

Upon entering the inn, I was met by Mr. Waylan's younger daughter. "Miss, there is a gentleman and a lady awaiting you in the sitting room."

"Thank you, I shall come directly."

My intuition told me it was Mr. Masen, but how could that be so? I understood from him yesterday his sister was to arrive this morning.

Miss Waylan showed me into the room, and I was met by Mr. Masen and his sister.

I was unable to overcome my astonishment before introductions were made.

I regarded the girl in front of me; her address was kind and sincere.

As she spoke, I realized how unjust and wrong Wickham's accusations had been. She was not proud. Only exceedingly shy.

After introductions, Mr. Masen informed me that Mr. McCarty was waiting downstairs in the carriage. Desirous of meeting with me, he had accompanied them to Lambton. I confess, I was eager to see him again, if only to see if he was as affected as Rose.

Mr. Masen then excused himself to go downstairs and relay my wishes to Mr. McCarty. It afforded me an opportunity to speak with Miss Masen alone.

"I understand you have recently traveled from London. You must be very tired."

"I am well. The journey is long, but my brother is very mindful of my comfort. When he told me you were so near I could not wait to meet you.

"Indeed!" I said in surprise. "I am glad of your visit."

"How long will you be in Lambton, Miss Isabella?"

"I am not sure. My aunt and uncle invited, me so my time is dependent upon them."

"Then perhaps Edward can persuade them to stay longer, for I would dearly like to spend more time with you."

I smiled at her statement. "And your brother is always willing to champion your intrigues?"

The young girl's eyes widened before she saw the teasing smile I wore. "Oh yes, Edward is always willing to do whatever he can for the comfort of those he loves." Her look became wistful and then a look of pain crossed her features. "Sometimes, though, I feel he is too kind to me."

I smiled at the girl wistfully. "An ideal elder brother then, Miss Masen? I confess I am envious for I have no brothers, only four sisters."

She smiled, "Please call me Alice, and I should have liked to have a sister."

"I will only consent to call you Alice, if you call me Isabella."

She seemed genuinely pleased by this. "I would be happy if you and your aunt would visit Pemberley while the men are fishing. I confess, your company would be preferred to..."

She slapped her hand over her mouth in horror. "I am so sorry, Isabella. That was... so very rude of me."

I laughed at her attempt to smooth over her remark. "Are you trying to say you find Miss McCarty's company tiresome as well?"

She regarded me with wide eyes before giggling softly.

"I know it is not proper to speak thus of an acquaintance. I apologize."

"Oh, please do not apologize on my account, for I know she would never apologize for being rude."

I had to laugh at the girl's boldness, I had taken her for a shy young woman, but once she was comfortable a whole new personality emerged.

"Then I shall not, and I accept your invitation for myself and my aunt."

"Thank you, Isabella."

Just then, Mr. McCarty came bounding into the room, an excited look upon his face.

"Miss Isabella!"

Alice excused herself to speak with her brother. I was amazed at how very different everything could have been had we not met again. I was delighted with Alice; she was a lovely young woman.

The three of them bid me farewell with the promise of seeing one another quite soon. I looked on with longing as the party stepped into their carriage and drove away.

**~I~I~I~**

Approaching Pemberley as an invited guest quieted any nervousness I had felt upon the first visit. I was able to relax and enjoy the ride thoroughly. I asked my aunt several questions in regards to the history of the area. She was knowledgeable enough about the town but could tell me little about Pemberley.

Miss Masen greeted us upon our arrival. Her bright smile was indeed infectious and soon we were all at ease. Too soon, however, our peace was interrupted.

"Why, Miss Izabel, what brings you to Pemberley?" Miss McCarty sneered.

Caught off guard at being attacked so quickly by the woman, I decided to give her something to think about. "I was invited by Miss Masen, who was gracious enough to brave another journey to make my acquaintance this morning." I finished with a smile.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Alice, _dear,_" she simpered. "Your brother should have had more sense than to carry you off so soon after such an arduous journey. What must he be thinking?"

Alice looked at me, stunned, and then turned back to Miss McCarty. "I assure you, Edward was quite willing to wait until I was recovered from our travels. However, I could scarcely contain my excitement to meet the woman my brother has talked of for many months now."

Too distracted by what Alice said to pay any more attention to Miss McCarty, I tried to reason through what I just heard. He had spoken to his sister about me for months now?

That... that would mean he had thought of me even after Kent.

We were led to the music room where we were seated and served tea and refreshments.

I watched as Miss McCarty and Mrs. Crowley looked down on us as nothing more than unwelcome intruders.

Alice asked my aunt and I about our travel plans. Since this unexpected detour, I was unsure where we were to go from here. My aunt responded that we planned on viewing Matlock, and then would travel to the upper lakes before heading back to Hertfordshire.

"It must have been such an immense pleasure for you to view so many great estates, coming from one such as yours. You are no doubt in awe of all the splendor." Miss McCarty smiled at me.

I heard Alice gasp quietly beside me.

Was this insufferable woman that blind? To not see how her manners, which she herself praised as being impeccable, were rude and offensive?

She was trying my patience. "I assure you there were many fine estates on our tour, however many I found were decorated more to flatter the owner's ego than to provide a good home. Money and worldly possessions alone, cannot gain people's respect."

"I agree, Isabella, Edward is always saying that although we have been blessed with wealth and privilege, it is our duty to help those around us who were not so fortunate."

I smiled at the young girl's statement. With each good report, I found my heart changing toward Mr. Masen, aching to be near him. What could this mean? I vowed to put it aside. I would think about her brother later.

"Oh pish posh, why would anyone care what the poor think? Many of their circumstances are of their own making."

To say I was shocked by such a selfish notion would be a gross understatement. To be so disillusioned to the plight of those less fortunate, and to sink to the level of unfeeling comments, was too much.

"I fail to see how it is of their own making Miss McCarty. A person's circumstances whether poor or rich are irrelevant. A poor man can be just happy if not more so than a rich man. It simply depends on his attitude."

"You cannot be serious, Miss Izabel," she mocked.

"I am indeed, for I have read about many a rich man alone and miserable. They become so insufferable the only company they can keep is their own."

"Well, I for one could never imagine living like that, nor would I associate with such people. It is unseemly for a lady of breeding."

"I am sorry to hear you say such a thing, Miss McCarty." Alice said solemnly.

"Really? Why dear? I am sure your brother would agree," she stated confidently.

"I am sure he would not agree. You see it is the responsibility of the master and mistress of Pemberley to see to the tenants who occupy our land."

"Well, I'm sure the housekeeper arranges all those matters. A nice basket of food every now and then should do it, and no doubt they realize how lucky they are to be part of such an estate."

I looked at Alice who was becoming visibly angry. "My dear departed mother carried on the tradition of administering to the poor and needy herself. It was not a task she took lightly. I am sure Edward would expect nothing less of his wife."

"Oh I see, well that was very noble of her."

The conversation thankfully turned towards books thanks to my aunt. We began speaking of poetry, and I was delighted to find she was so well versed. We compared Scott's and Byron, as well as lesser known authors who were slowly making an impression.

"I find a delight in knowing our selection of poetry is so diverse."

Alice nodded, "I agree. I have been having discussions with Colonel Whitlock. He is gracious enough to tolerate my obsession."

I laughed merrily. I had found the Colonel to be a very good sort of man. I could readily see him bending to the wishes of such a persuasive young woman. "I am sure he is pleased to find you have such varied interests. Poetry is a topic many people find a common interest."

She agreed, and silence again befell the room. Wanting to keep her at ease, I remembered Mr. Masen had mentioned Miss Masen's love for music.

"I understand you are fond of music, and play very well."

The young girl blushed. "No, not very well, but I am very fond of music. I should dearly love to hear you play and sing. My brother has told me he has rarely heard anything that gave him more pleasure."

I colored at such a speech. "I thank you, but I must warn you your brother has grossly exaggerated my talents." I was confused as to why he would say such a thing to his sister. He had never seemed to enjoy anything I did, always looking at me with that disapproving stare of his. "No doubt it was for some mischievous reason of his own," I added.

"Oh no! That cannot be so. Edward only ever tells the absolute truth." Surprised by the outburst, she lowered her eyes.

"I am sure he was just being polite," I offered weakly.

"Miss Izabel, tell me, how is your family? Are your sisters as wild as ever?" Miss McCarty interrupted.

I was upset by her previous conversation and had no desire to be engaged in another discussion. "My family is doing very well, Miss McCarty, thank you for asking. Victoria has been in Brighton these past weeks. Besides myself, the rest of the family remains at home."

She was about to reply when Edward walked into the room. He greeted us cordially, and I could not help but stare.

I was hopelessly in love with Edward Masen.

**~I~I~I~**

Seated in the carriage, I was exhausted from the whirlwind of activities that had taken place since happening upon Edward three days ago.

Dinner at Pemberley had been a wonderful yet trying affair. It seemed Miss McCarty's jealousy knew no bounds as she lashed out unknowingly at poor Alice.

I had never wanted to throttle a woman so much in my entire life.

Trying as best I could to divert the subject, I was only partially successful. She became shy and more reserved for the rest of the evening.

It was not until we were leaving, when she invited me to join her and Mr. Masen on a tour of the park, that I saw her smile once more.

I was excited and nervous about the thought of being in his company. Not to mention my horseman skills were in need of some desperate improvements. I had ridden occasionally as a child, but Papa had only had the one horse and could not spare it for hours of leisurely rides. I was left to roam the countryside on my own feet.

The ride had been quiet; it seemed neither of us had the power to speak.

When we entered the meadow, I was struck dumb at the sight of such magnificence. Surely if there was a heaven, it resembled this place.

I looked away from my aunt and uncle who were both asleep. Once I was certain I was alone, I allowed the raw, bitter truth to wash over me. Tears stung my eyes as I tried uselessly to keep them at bay.

His words had been so beautiful. The declaration that he loved me still and could not pass through this life without me was overwhelming.

I yielded my soul to him when I accepted his proposal. The embrace so full of passion, I was easily swept away in his arms.

It was nothing like our previous encounters.

He kissed me with such fervor and longing, it could only mean he held for me the very deepest of love.

But would it be enough?

Could that love survive such a trial? Could he accept the ruination of my sister or even worse, to be tied forever to the man who has sought to harm him time and time again?

The tears flowed freely now. I attempted to muffle my sobs, not wanting to wake my companions.

Mere hours ago I had been the happiest in my life. Certain my future would be filled with a love I had only dreamt about.

Now everything was uncertain.

I dried and closed my eyes, picturing his face and remembering the words he had spoken to me.

"_I will come for you, Isabella."_

In a whisper I pleaded, "Don't leave me, Edward, for I cannot live without you."


	3. The Talk

**I couldn't resist writing this. The thought of a mother trying to explain the concept of sex to her daughter (in 1815) was to painfully funny to pass up.**

**Enjoy...**

**I do not own Twilight or Pride and Prejudice.**

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Knock... knock... knock

I looked up at the door, surprised anyone would be awake at this hour.

"Come in," I called, before closing the book I had been reading. I quickly placed it on the table beside my bed. The door opened and my mother stepped in, closing the door behind her.

"Mama?" I asked, confused.

"Isabella, shouldn't you be asleep, child?" she asked in exasperation. "Oh, nevermind. This will only take a moment."

I couldn't imagine what would bring her to my room this late, especially with what was taking place tomorrow. "Is anything the matter, Mama?" I admit, I was curious. It was unusual for her to visit my room, and she was acting nervous.

She drew in a deep breath, "I... well, that is to say… oh, my wretched nerves."

"Whatever it is, I am listening, Mama. There is no need to worry yourself." I attempted to soothe her, but she was becoming more agitated.

She flung her hands wildly in the air. "I never thought I would have to discuss such a thing with you, Isabella. With your stubbornness, I was resolved to you never marrying."

I knew I was missing something important, which would piece together this puzzle my mother was speaking of. However, the answer eluded me.

Huffing at my silence, she continued. "You were always too much like your father. Quiet and contemplative, asking too many questions which a girl had no business concerning herself with."

I was used to my mother's dislike of my "abnormal female behavior" as she called it. But it hurt to hear her speak of me this way, and to my face no less.

"Mother, I am aware of your opinion. Please say what it is you came hear say and go. I am tired." I tried desperately to hide the hurt I felt.

"Oh, don't start that, young lady. This is not easy for me, you know. I need to tell you what you should expect on your wedding night."

I tensed instantly; the very though of discussing such a subject with my mother was mortifying.

"Mama, I thought it was improper for young ladies to discuss such things." I begged her with my tone to stop.

"I must, Isabella. It is the duty of a mother to prepare their daughters so they are not caught unawares," she replied, her tone elevated to a painfully high octave.

_This was sounding more terrible by the minute._

She interlocked her fingers, twisting them nervously. After several agonizing minutes she began, "Your husband will seek you out. You... you must lie very still." She eyed my sternly, no doubt assessing whether I was paying attention.

"Lie very still. Is that all?" I hoped that would be the end of it, but she continued.

"I know that it can be a frightening when you first see your husband... unclothed. So it may be best if you close your eyes until he joins you in your bed."

I swallowed thickly, wondering how I would survive this talk and be able to face Edward tomorrow.

"He will then take his... his... person, and insult you with it." She paused, looking thoughtful, while I was quite certain my eyes were as wide as saucers.

"The whole episode is over rather quickly, and he will retreat to his own chambers to sleep," she concluded rather dramatically.

I felt my stomach flip, and I thought I might be sick.

"Do not fret, girl. It is your duty as a wife." She sighed, gently patting my hand. "If you are lucky, he will get you with child very quickly, and you will be free from his attentions until well after the birth," she proclaimed happily.

My mouth felt so dry. "Is that all?" I rasped. _Please, Lord, let that be all._

"Oh yes, do you have any questions for me?"

I shook my head in the negative, too mortified to speak.

"Well... I believe that is all. It went well, did it not?" she asked nervously.

"Certainly, Mama," I replied quickly, before she decided to add anything else.

"Excellent. I need to speak with Rose now. Goodnight, dear."

I watched her retreat and quickly said a prayer for Rose... as well as myself.


End file.
